


where dwell the brave at heart

by coalitiongirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 02:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13226643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coalitiongirl/pseuds/coalitiongirl
Summary: And Regina thinks, and she can’t remember the last time that Emma’s hexed her in the halls. She remembers Emma passing her a telescope during Astronomy without a single snide word, and she remembers Emma fighting with others this year but never her.She stares at Emma, uncomprehending, and Emma says, “Parents suck,” with so much finality in her voice that it strikes Regina as an odd statement for an orphan to say.“Almost as much as uppity Gryffindors do,” Regina says grudgingly, and for once she isn’t talking about Emma. Emma grins and bumps her shoulder, and Regina hexes her as she leaves the room because frankly, she doesn’t need a white knight.(The grimdark post-Hogwarts fake dating fic that literally no one (except hopefully comet) ever wanted. Guess we're all stuck with it now!)





	where dwell the brave at heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bringyouhometoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bringyouhometoo/gifts).



> Written for a new year's exchange for comet!! I am not entirely sure what it became but I hope it is enjoyable. Happy 2018!!! <3
> 
> Oh! And I owe Tuna lots of thanks for her guidance with this one! I don't think I could have done it without you, ily. :')

She doesn’t know what possesses her to–

 

_ –On the train in her first year, surrounded by Mother’s favored picks for friendship when she stumbles across Ruby Lucas with a blonde girl dressed in too-large clothes who doesn’t move aside when Cruella drawls something sharp. Regina– desperate to be like these new friends, to be someone they respect and fear so Mother will hear– says something sharper, and the girl laughs in her face. Mal and Cru laugh, too, and Regina’s authority is shattered before she ever makes it to school. _

 

_ She hates the girl with a burning passion, Emma Swan the orphan who meets her glare boldly as they row across the lake to Hogwarts. Then the Sorting Hat puts her in Gryffindor to the raucous amusement of the Slytherins and she hates herself even more. _

 

_ Emma Swan is one of the only Gryffindors who aren’t hooting too when Regina finally finishes arguing with Headmistress White and stomps to their table, laughing at Cora Mills’s daughter being thrust into their midst. Emma watches her with solemn eyes and offers her the pitcher of juice.  _

 

_ She shoves it away so it splashes on Emma. She doesn’t need her pity. _

 

_ –Third year, on the Quidditch field as a Chaser, soaring through the sky with the ball in hand during practice. A stray Bludger crashes into her side, and Emma– across the field and laughing with Ruby instead of doing her job– swoops down in front of her and catches her as she falls from her broom. It’s an old, shabby one, Daddy’s from when he’d been in school, but Mother would never allow her to purchase a broomstick to fight for Gryffindor. Regina watches it blur as she falls, too dazed to think of anything more than the broomstick hovering above her. _

 

_ And then Emma’s arms are around her, warm and strong as they catch Regina and reel under the force of supporting her to the ground, and Regina burrows into her side for just a minute before she berates the Beater, wracked with pain all the way down. Emma insists on accompanying her to the hospital wing and whispers apologies when she thinks that Regina is asleep. _

 

_ –Fourth year, shoving each other around and performing secret hexes on each other when the professors aren’t watching. Regina can’t lift one of Emma’s for weeks, but she keeps her chin up and pretends that she’d absolutely turned her hair neon green on purpose. Headmistress White shakes her head longsufferingly, but she doesn’t try approaching Regina again. Regina has rebuffed enough of her attempts to last a lifetime. _

 

_ She leaves a non-venomous snake in Emma’s bed as revenge, and scrambles her brain just before a Potions exam. Emma finds her after that, eyes on fire and wand out, and Regina sneers at her and pretends that she doesn’t love it when Emma wants to fight, that it’s the only time in this hellhole of a House that she actually feels as though she might matter. _

 

_ –Fifth year, sneaking after Emma and Ruby into the Whomping Willow and finding Emma, white-faced as she pushes Regina back, as she tries spell after spell that Regina deflects. Regina charges forward, desperate to see what it is that Emma’s hiding, and coming face-to-roaring-snout with a werewolf. “Please,” and it’s Emma begging her when they tumble out of the Willow. “Please, don’t tell anyone about her.”  _

 

_ Regina keeps the secret. She doesn’t know why she bothers, when she and Emma hate each other and Ruby has never looked at her with anything other than distrust and loathing. A few well-placed words and she wouldn’t be the most-disliked member of Gryffindor House.  _

 

_ But she doesn’t say anything, Emma’s pale desperation leaving her uncomfortable and uncertain. Emma has worried conversations with Headmistress White, looking deeply uncertain in each, until those peter off and Emma looks less and less worried by the day.  _

 

_ Finally, Emma hexes her on the way to Transfiguration one day and Regina charms Emma’s books to keep falling from her arms and she knows that they’re going to be all right. _

 

_ –Sixth year, when the Dark One is back and the coolness from her House becomes outright hostility. Zelena is out of school and wreaking havoc for the both of them, and everyone knows that Henry Mills is dead and Cora Mills is the Dark One’s right-hand woman. Regina endures “accidental” shoves and whispered comments in the hall and more than one confrontation with too-bold Gryffindors who see her only as her mother’s daughter. _

 

_ She stays strong. She’s always stayed strong, and she ignores scrawled vandalism on her things and younger housemates raring for a fight. She walks through the halls with Daddy’s wedding ring on a chain around her neck, the only support she’s ever had. She perfects a dark glare that repels all but the most stalwart, and frightens off little Hufflepuffs in the corridors. The Slytherins despise her as much as the Gryffindors, but Mal offers her friendship again and Regina nearly takes it after one too many attempts from Headmistress White to talk to her. _

 

_ She comes back to the dormitories early one day, skipping class because who gives a damn when the world is ending anyway, and finds Emma scrubbing at the framed photo of Daddy that Regina keeps by her bed. Emma turns, eyes wide, and says quickly, “It just looked dusty. It’s fine. I was cleaning anyway–”  _

 

_ “What did you do?” Regina demands, but she can already see what Emma’s done, where she’s cleaned vile words off the face of the photo frame. They’re still there, faint and not quite disappeared, and both Daddy and Emma look at the visible words with consternation.  _

 

_ And Regina thinks, and she can’t remember the last time that Emma’s hexed her in the halls. She remembers Emma passing her a telescope during Astronomy without a single snide word, and she remembers Emma fighting with others this year but never her.  _

 

_ She stares at Emma, uncomprehending, and Emma says, “Parents suck,” with so much finality in her voice that it strikes Regina as an odd statement for an orphan to say. _

 

_ “Almost as much as uppity Gryffindors do,” Regina says grudgingly, and for once she isn’t talking about Emma. Emma grins and bumps her shoulder, and Regina hexes her as she leaves the room because frankly, she doesn’t need a white knight. _

 

_ –Seventh year, the school mostly adjusted to Regina’s presence by now, and Emma and Regina’s strange truce fading away. It isn’t only hexes, not when they can be cruel instead, and they duel in school-approved settings and in those that aren’t quite so approved, make dark comments that bite a little too deeply, and Regina can’t remember why there had been times when she’d been so fond of the infuriating, beautiful blonde. _

 

_ (Beautiful?) _

 

_ Emma is Head Girl even though Regina’s grades are better and she’d been prefect before Mother had been a Death Eater, and Regina hates her for taking this away from her, for taking away the one thing that might have shown all of Hogwarts that Regina could  _ win _ , could be on top despite all their efforts to the contrary. Emma is Head Girl because Headmistress White adores her and because everyone in school sees her as some kind of Chosen One, just because she’s good at Defense Against the Dark Arts and a natural leader. _

 

_ Regina’s good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, too, and if her teachers would stop implying it’s because of her  _ personal experience with the Dark Arts _ , that would be great, too. _

 

_ She sneaks into the prefects’ baths late at night, even though she isn’t technically supposed to be there, and finds Emma already inside the room, about to undress. “Learn to lock a door,” Regina snaps. _

 

_ “Learn to keep a curfew,” Emma shoots back, and they’re automatically reaching for their wands, preparing for a fight.  _

 

_ Somehow they wind up kissing instead, tumbling into the bath with hands grasping everywhere and sighs and groans, and Regina is certain that everything they’ve endured until this day is worth it to watch Emma Swan come undone, to know what her fingers can do to Emma without hexes or charms. Emma kisses her as though she’s been longing for this for years, and Regina kisses her back, cradles Emma’s face in hers, hates her and wants her so desperately that there are no words for it. _

 

_ They don’t talk about it again after that, and Regina wonders sometimes if it had just been an hallucination bubbling up after years of their bitter rivalry. _

 

_ –Months after graduation, months cooped up in a dark house with Death Eaters coming in and out and gawping at Mother’s Gryffindor daughter with amused disgust. Regina resists Mother’s irritable reminders of the Dark One’s expectations of her; and maybe Mother does love her, because she hasn’t been disowned or killed yet. She walks freely among other wizards, even if she endures more glares and whispers. _

 

_ Those are nothing new. New, though, is seeing Emma Swan in her house one day when she returns home, struggling in Cruella’s grasp and spitting out curses. “Found this little brat trying to fly into your windows,” Cruella says, and Regina is drawn first to Emma’s panicked face, second to the way she holds the swell of her stomach with her hand. “A little Cruciatius might take give us some answers.” She laughs. _

 

_ “You can’t,” Regina says automatically, and Mother’s eyebrows rise. They’re a threat, the kind that leaves Regina cold and afraid, but Emma is staring at her with hopeless, fearful eyes, and Regina gathers her strength– _

 

She doesn’t know what possesses her to say it, but she says it anyway. “You can’t,” she says again, “Because she’s having my baby.” 

 

* * *

 

Mother is furious and delighted and furious again. “Another Gryffindor?” she hisses. “As though the others don’t already have their doubts about you because of your father’s family. You impregnate a  _ Gryffindor _ ?” Emma sits on the couch beside Regina, her eyes wary as she watches Mother pace. Regina reaches out to squeeze her hand, which seems the sort of thing to do when someone is having your baby. “The humiliation,” Mother seethes. “My daughter, having a True Love baby with some squeaky-clean– You had better not be a Mudblood,” she snarls at Emma.

 

Emma flinches. Regina, accustomed to the word, just tenses and waits for Emma’s reply. “I’m an orphan,” Emma says evenly.

 

“Good. Two dead wizard parents and I never want to hear anything to the contrary,” Cora says, and then twists again to glare at them. “A  _ True Love baby _ – there hasn’t been record of one of those in centuries. And  _ you’re  _ the ones to bear one?” Now she’s eyeing them suspiciously. Emma squeezes Regina’s hand tighter, and Regina angles herself instinctively in front of her stomach.

 

Zelena scoffs. “ _ Please _ . Everyone in Hogwarts knew that those two were hopelessly in love.” Regina stares up at her in wide-eyed startlement as Cruella and Mal laugh knowingly. Emma rests her head against Regina’s shoulder, and Regina can feel the shock of the touch, the way it sends a flood of  _ something  _ through her.

 

“Emma’s tired, Mother,” she says boldly, snaking her hand around Emma’s shoulders. “Let me take her upstairs.” 

 

She makes it two steps before she’s flying against a wall, banging her head on the doorpost as Mother waves a wand at her lazily. “Foolish girl,” she spits out, sneering at her. Emma starts forward and Regina holds up a sharp hand to stop her. Mother’s fury is best endured alone.

 

Her head is flung against the wall again, and Mother whispers a quiet curse. It isn’t Cruciatus, but it’s still enough that her whole body is wracked with pain for a moment, convulsing as she bites her lips to keep from screaming. When it’s done, she tastes blood, and Zelena is holding Emma back with a spell as Emma strains forward.

 

Regina walks unsteadily to the stairs, and Zelena releases Emma to follow her. “It’s fine,” she mutters under her breath. “I’ll be fine in a few minutes.” She leads Emma to her room, closing the door and locking it before she checks all her wards. Emma watches her silently, her jaw set, and Regina finally spins around. “What were you  _ thinking _ ?” she demands. “Breaking into Cora Mills’s house? Didn’t you listen to  _ anything _ the other Gryffindors told you?” 

 

Emma shrugs sullenly. “Ruby said you hadn’t been seen since graduation. I got worried.” 

 

“ _ Idiot _ ,” Regina says, frustrated.

 

“ _ I’m _ the idiot?” Emma says disbelievingly. “You just told Cora Mills that I’m having your baby! Do you have any idea who– who I–” She shakes her head, her face very white. “My mother,” she says in a low voice. “Is Snow White. She went and hid me away for seventeen years to keep me  _ safe _ –” And she says it with bitter resentment as Regina gapes at her. “–And decided to tell me all of this once I was out of school.” 

 

“That’s why you disappeared after graduation,” Regina says dully. This has all just gotten so much more complicated than it had been when they’d been kissing in the baths a few months ago. She jabs a finger at Emma in sudden suspicion. “That…that  _ isn’t _ my baby, is it?” 

 

“Of course not,” Emma says, rolling her eyes, and Regina determinedly does not feel any disappointment at that.

 

“The father?” 

 

“Dead.”

 

Regina sits down on her bed, the enormity of what they’d just done setting in at last. “Oh,  _ shit _ ,” she says softly. 

 

Emma laughs humorlessly. “I know,” she says, and she sits beside Regina, rubbing her stomach. “They aren’t going to let me leave, are they?” 

 

“I can’t imagine they will.” Regina leans back against the wall. “Mother might not be the most…devoted parent, but she takes her bloodline very seriously. Especially a…” She can’t quite force out the words.

 

Emma has no such compunction. “True Love baby?” she says, and she laughs again, helpless and a little hysterical. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m just…I’m really screwed, aren’t I?” She laughs until she’s crying, bent around her belly as she curls on Regina’s bed, and Regina lays a blanket over her and flees her room.

 

* * *

 

Mother makes it clear from the start what’s expected of Regina now. “The Dark One will not tolerate you hosting a vagrant freeloader in our home,” she says coldly. “It’s time you start making yourself useful.” 

 

Regina says, “Yes, Mother,” because Emma is upstairs and afraid and vulnerable and this is her mess to lie in. She gets a rare smile for her acquiescence, and Mother squeezes her shoulder hard before she lets Regina retreat back upstairs.

 

Emma is still asleep, and Regina finds a spare blanket in the closet and stretches out on the floor beside her. There’s something very soothing about sleeping in the same room with Emma’s light snores again, but Regina tries not to think about it too much.

 

* * *

 

She goes on her first mission with Killian and Arthur, terrorizing the populace of a small mostly-Muggle town where two witches live. There’s a sort of rush to it, to being strong and powerful and in control, but that fades away when Arthur is standing in front of a shivering Muggle girl under the Imperius Curse and ordering her to come back with them.

 

“ _ Finite Incantatum _ ,” she snarls, rounding on him, and it’s enough distraction that the witches get the better of them, slicing at them with hexes and leaving Regina bruised and bloody.

 

She manages to overcome the two witches, sending them running back home, and Killian and Arthur keep their mouths shut about why their mission hadn’t been a rousing success. Mother is still fuming that they hadn’t left with a body count, and once Regina endures her punishment, she trudges back upstairs.

 

She’s covered in blood and grime, eyes dark and wand still in her hand, and Emma takes one look at her and straightens, her pale face hard. Her wand had been confiscated and never returned, but she raises trembling fists and says, “If you hurt anyone on your little trip, I’ll kill you.” 

 

And now, after months in this dark house surrounded by Death Eaters and her mother and people who hate her, Regina hits her limit. She can feel the tears falling before she registers that she’s sobbing, bends and breaks and huddles on the floor in loss and defeat. Images from the night flash through her eyes– people screaming, houses burning, families in fear and angry, helpless witches– and she can’t  _ do  _ this, can’t go on like this, can’t be the person that Mother wants and can’t be the person who Emma expects her to be, either.

 

Emma is beside her an interminable period later, crouched over her with a filled basin and a washcloth, and she wipes away the blood on Regina’s face with gentle hands. Regina leans back against the wall, tears flowing down her cheeks to her neck where Daddy’s ring still rests, and Emma murmurs, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I…” And she presses her lips to Regina’s cheek, stopping the flow of the tears for a brief moment before they begin again.

 

* * *

 

There are more missions, and after one particular battle with an enraged Ruby, news gets out that Regina is a Death Eater now. She doesn’t have the Dark Mark– not yet, anyway, because the Dark One has been hidden away for long enough that they’ve had a reprieve– but she can see the loathing on the faces of her old classmates as they spar with her, the betrayal on their faces after years of expecting that same betrayal. 

 

“You should have seen the way that Mulan looked at her,” Cruella says, cackling as she retells the story at the Mills Manor. “There’s nothing like sanctimonious lions being taken in by one of their own, isn’t there?” She smirks at Regina. “I thought the wolf girl was going to bite your head off right there.”

 

Regina smirks back, quelling her nausea, and Cruella turns her attention to Emma, sitting silently beside Regina. “And how are the little lovebirds, darlings?” Cruella croons, sly mockery in her tone. 

 

Emma slides a hand around Regina’s arm, awkward and stilted, and Regina feels Mother’s eyes on them from behind her. She leans over to Emma, her eyes questioning as secret panic rises within her, and Emma nods almost imperceptibly. Regina presses her lips to Emma’s and Emma’s eyes flutter shut, receiving the kiss and intensifying it. 

 

They have an audience, but it’s easy to forget them, to reach for Emma and pull her closer, onto her lap, clutching at her arms as Emma wraps her own arms around Regina’s neck. Her tongue slips into Regina’s mouth, her teeth nipping at Regina’s lip, and Regina kisses and kisses and kisses until Mother clears her throat loudly from behind them.

 

“That was quite the response,” Killian says slyly, and Emma’s cheeks burn as she jerks away from Regina. Regina watches her, momentarily out of words, and she remembers just in time to tug Emma back to her again, to nestle into her side before they blow their cover.

 

Mother watches them for a moment, eyes sharp, and she says thoughtfully, “Children of True Love are said to be unnaturally gifted in magic. Let them do what they want.” 

 

Emma relaxes against Regina’s side, and Regina stares fixedly at the wall of the room, her lips still burning from Emma’s kisses.

 

* * *

 

The hardest day is the one when Regina loses, when it’s Ruby and Merida and three Aurors against her and she’s immobilized and captured, brought to an interrogation room with another Auror standing over her. 

 

There’s nothing they can do that Mother hasn’t already done to her, and she endures their threats and hexes and hopes desperately that the Veritaserum immunity potion that they gulp down before every battle hasn’t worn off yet. The Aurors are relentless, and she glares coldly at them and refuses to answer their questions, right up until the door opens and Headmistress White–  _ no,  _ not her headmistress anymore, just Snow White– bursts in. “Regina,” she says, and she sounds very frail. “Oh, Regina.” 

 

The Aurors slip out of the room at her nod, and Snow White kneels before where Regina’s chained to the chair and reaches for her. Regina recoils, kicks outward as much as her chains will allow, and slams a foot into Snow’s knee.

 

Snow is shoved back, but she doesn’t show her pain. She stands and rounds the desk, sitting opposite Regina as though they’re equals, and she whispers, “Is she safe?” 

 

_ Is she safe?  _ They both know who  _ she  _ is, and Regina can’t deny this, even if she can deny everything else about what she’s been and what she’s become. “As safe as she can be,” Regina murmurs. She won’t be safe for long if Regina doesn’t return home, and Regina can suddenly think of nothing else. 

 

“When the time comes,” Snow says, rising, and her eyes are piercing, knowing. “I want to know that I can count on you.” 

 

Regina is  _ tired _ , is sick of being thrown to one side or the other by manipulative women who only see all the ways that they can use her. She wants to flee this war, flee her family, flee everyone in the whole damned wizarding world except maybe Emma Swan, who needs her. 

 

Snow doesn’t wait for a response. But when she leaves the room, Regina’s chains fall limply to the sides of her chair again, shriveling into dust.

 

* * *

 

She escapes and returns to the Mills Manor, and she can already sense that something is wrong from the outside. There’s a menacing air about, a shadow that seems to drape itself over the manor and all within it, and Regina walks inside carefully, her wand out as she looks around warily.

 

A quiet, creaky voice says, “And here she is, the prodigal daughter.” Regina whips around, wand out, and sees  _ him _ . He wears a hood over his scaly face, eyes glittering with amusement as he watches her take a step back, and the other Death Eaters are knelt around him in their robes. 

 

Emma stands out in the sea of black, shivering in her spot in front of the Dark One, and she doesn’t turn away from him even when Regina speaks. Regina’s heart is in her throat as she watches them, as she watches Emma alone and vulnerable before the Dark One. “I was questioned by Aurors,” she says, struggling to meet the Dark One’s eyes. “They didn’t get anything out of me.” 

 

“Nothing Aurors have done can match Cora’s training,” the Dark One says, and he laughs, high and cold. Emma shivers again. The Dark One reaches out to her, pinches her chin as he raises it to stare at her face, and he laughs shrilly again. “And this little girl is yours, then, dearie?” 

 

_ Yours _ . “Yes,” Regina says, swooping forward to seize Emma from his grasp. The sea of Death Eaters, her mother and sister among them, gasp as one at her boldness. Emma stands shakily under the bulk of her growing stomach, and she tries– the  _ idiot _ – to move protectively in front of Regina.

 

The Dark One cackles, delighted at their audacity. “Truly, a pair of Gryffindors in our midst. Shameful.” He cocks his head to the Death Eater knelt at his right. “You made a grave error in marrying into that bloodline,” he says scornfully. “They aren’t our kind. Look what you’ve created.” He reaches a crooked finger to Regina’s cheek, stroking it. Regina forces herself to stand still, unmoving under his caress, and Emma holds her hand in an iron grip throughout the touch. “I wonder,” he says thoughtfully, “What this child will be.” 

 

Now he reaches for Emma’s stomach, and Regina’s nails bite into Emma’s palm in warning. Emma shuts her eyes, a single tear slipping through them, and Regina wants to–

 

–to wrap her arms around her, hold her tightly, kiss away her tears–

 

–but when the Dark One finally lets them leave, stumbling upstairs together, their hands fall apart and they stand alone in Regina’s room, each with arms wrapped around her center as they stare at the ground.

 

* * *

 

“I saw your mother,” Regina says from the floor. Emma is tossing and turning on the bed. She’s offered it to Regina twice tonight, but Regina isn’t so cruel that she’d make a pregnant girl sleep on the floor instead of her. “She wanted to know if you were safe.” 

 

“Fuck her,” Emma grumbles from the bed. “Her idea of  _ safe _ is hiding me off somewhere where she doesn’t have to deal with me.” 

 

Regina stares at the ceiling. “I suppose so.” Their mothers couldn’t be more wildly different, but she knows too well what it means to hate her mother and love, too reluctantly.

 

Emma reaches down, her hand dangling over Regina’s cheek for a moment, and she says, “What did the Aurors do to you?” 

 

“It doesn’t matter.” She had endured it, as she always does. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Emma whispers. “All of this…I can’t ever be okay with it, but I’m sorry that you feel the need to do it.” She laughs bitterly. “I was supposed to save you.” 

 

And Regina dares to ask, at last, when it’s night and the Dark One is downstairs and nothing else really matters anymore. “Why would you?” she murmurs. “We hated each other in school. Didn’t we?” The question is uncertain, more so than she’d intended it to be. Seven years of loathing are just as easily seven years of something else entirely, when she thinks about it too much.

 

Emma leans over the side of the bed, her eyes gleaming as they find Regina’s. “That floor looks terrible,” she says in a whisper. “There’s plenty of space up here, you know.” 

 

She turns down the corner of her blanket in tentative invitation. Regina climbs up onto the bed and crawls in, lying stiffly beside Emma. Emma shifts to the side, tugging Regina in closer, and Regina sags against her side, wraps her arms around Emma’s belly and tucks her head in beside hers as she finally drifts off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

The Dark One is gone in the morning, a dozen Death Eaters gone with him, and Regina shudders and sits down for breakfast, still with the feeling of something oily and vile in the air. Emma pushes away her breakfast, just as listless as Regina, and Mother says pointedly from across the table, “You’re eating for two, dear.”

 

Emma picks at her food half-heartedly and Mother twitches a finger. Emma’s fork flies into her food, shoving it into her mouth as Emma gasps, and Regina says, “ _ Mother _ .” 

 

Mother looks up. Her eyes are dark, malicious, and Regina tenses in anticipation of punishment and lifts Mother’s spell. Almost instantly, she can feel her heart squeezing in her chest, her lungs contracting, her body betraying her as it suffocates her from the inside out. “Mother,” she says again, choking.

 

Emma looks at her in quiet consternation and her lips firm. She turns back to her plate, scoops up eggs as Regina chokes, and flicks them firmly with the twist of a Beater’s wrist. 

 

The eggs fly true; directly into Mother’s face. Mother drops the spell on Regina at once, twisting to stare at Emma with furious, dark eyes. Emma stares back stubbornly, and Regina thinks,  _ idiot _ . She thinks,  _ you have someone inside you to protect.  _ She thinks,  _ I’m not worth that. _ She thinks,  _ you’re– _

 

_ You’re _ –

 

She pushes the stray thoughts from her mind and stands up, her fingers skittering toward her wand in a not-quite-threat. Zelena and Mal are sitting at the counter and watching with interest, and if Regina moves her hand any closer than Mother will have to attack Emma to save face.

 

But she doesn’t. Mother smiles, her eyes settling back into the subtle malice of before, and she says, “Ah, young love. How…endearing.” She clears her throat, still smiling. “Regina, you’ll join me today. The Dark One left orders. The little wolf girl has been a menace. She must be taken care of.” 

 

_ No _ . “Ruby?” Emma blurts out, her eyes wide. 

 

“Emma–” 

 

“No,” Emma says, spinning around to stare at her in betrayal. “You’re not–” She stands abruptly and flees, back up the staircase to Regina’s room, and Regina follows under her mother’s satisfied gaze.

 

“I’m not going to hurt her,” Regina says when they’re alone, the door open so none of the wards are working. Mother must be downstairs right now, eavesdropping happily. “I don’t–” 

 

“You won’t. Your mother will, and you’ll watch and do  _ nothing _ .” Emma says, spinning around. “Isn’t this enough? Aren’t you ever– don’t you feel any shame? Don’t you realize that you’re the villain?” Her hands are on her stomach, her eyes fierce and agonized, and she’s already crying. “I thought you were different than them. I thought–” 

 

Regina scoffs, stung. “You spent seven years fucking with me in school because you thought I was the villain. You didn’t think  _ anything _ .” 

 

Emma barks out a bitter laugh. “I didn’t fuck with you in school because your mom was some royal Death Eater. I didn’t give a damn about that. I did it because you were a royal bitch.” She shakes her head, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I swear– if my best friend gets hurt because of you– if you– I’ll– I’ll–” 

 

“You’ll what?” Regina challenges, and she’s angry, she’s frustrated because she hasn’t chosen  _ any  _ of this and she doesn’t have a choice. Refusing Mother means inviting punishment, and Mother knows exactly how to hit where it hurts– to hit  _ Emma _ , who must be protected. And so  _ yes _ , she’ll go out there and she’ll watch Mother attack Ruby, and she’ll do nothing because–

 

Emma shakes her head again, crumbling to the floor. “There’s nothing I can do, is there?” she says dully, and she puts her face on her knees and cries in silence, withdrawn from the argument.

 

“Regina.” It’s Zelena by the door, her eyes dark as she watches them. “Mother’s waiting.”

 

“I know,” Regina murmurs, sliding her wand into her sleeve as Zelena waits in the doorway, watching Emma in silence. 

 

Emma’s looking up when Regina leaves, her eyes burning into Regina. “Don’t,” she says.

 

Regina goes.

 

* * *

 

From the start, this battle goes well. All it takes is Mother with her wand out, approaching the safe house where Snow is waiting, and a dozen Aurors pour out to challenge her. Regina cries out hexes to incapacitate them, to throw them back before Mother can kill anyone else, and Mother laughs merrily and weaves vile curses around the ones that Regina misses.

 

And then Ruby emerges, shouting out something furious at Regina, and they’re dueling in moments, firing blinding sparks at each other as the fight progresses. It’s hard like it hasn’t been before when she scores direct hits, when Ruby screams and fights harder. Regina wants her to  _ fall _ , wants Mother to stop watching them with malice gleaming in her eyes, wants Ruby out of Mother’s line of sight and wants Emma not to hate her. 

 

“Stop,” she says hoarsely when she throws Ruby back, when she scrambles forward with her wand out and where Mother can’t hear her. “Stop  _ doing  _ this. Run away and I can make sure that you survive this.” 

 

Ruby sneers at her. “Let Emma  _ go _ ,” she snarls–  _ snarls _ , and her body shifts before Regina’s eyes, lengthens and grows fur and there’s immediately a wolf beneath Regina, rearing up and throwing her back. 

 

Regina flies through the air and lands, bounces, something shattering in her side at the fall. Ruby lunges forward. At the same time, Mother points her wand at Ruby and shouts out one of her most vicious curses.

 

The curse flies forward and Regina only sees Emma behind her eyes, curled on the floor in agony. She sees Ruby and Emma glued together in school, heads together all the time as though no one could breach their friendship. Regina had envied Ruby once, ridiculous as it had been when she’d hated Emma. Regina had–

 

She throws herself forward by sheer instinct, hurtling in front of Ruby as her whole body burns with agony. The curse hits and the agony is multiplied by ten, leaves her sobbing in pain as her body gives out, and Mother hisses out a frustrated curse as Ruby bounds back into the safe house. 

 

Regina curls onto the ground, her side bruised and broken as she endures the pain from the fall and the curse. It feels as though she’s being burned alive; as though her skin is being torn from her still-living body. There are Aurors around her, and she can barely see them, her eyesight blurry. They point at her with their wands, ready to capture her again–

 

Someone lifts her up, breathing hard, and Regina sees golden hair and can only think of one person. “Emma,” she says dumbly, but there’s no  _ way _ , Emma’s trapped at home and Emma hates her right now. Emma is… 

 

“I’ve got you,” Emma whispers into her hair, and Regina closes her eyes and exhales.

 

* * *

 

The curse is a gnarly one, and it takes Zelena nearly an hour to fully remove it. Emma sits next to her, her hand in Regina’s as the bone-mending potion takes effect, and Regina cries helplessly from the pain as she heals. 

 

When she can finally speak, Zelena is gone from the room and Regina manages, “Ruby?”

 

“I think she’s okay,” Emma whispers. “I think– your mother left when we did.” She shivers, and Regina wants to wrap her in her blanket, to curl beside her and shut out the world. But Regina can barely move to watch her, let alone invite her into her bed. “The Dark One is gonna be pissed.” 

 

“If he even…” Regina strains, feeling her vocal cords protest as she struggles to use them. “If he even asked her to…” She gives up on finishing the thought. “A test,” she says instead.

 

Emma understands at once. “Cora was testing you,” she says, and she’s crying again, angry tears flooding her eyes and spilling down her face. “To see if you’d–” She huddles into herself, and Regina reaches for her with numb hand, puts it onto Emma’s and closes her eyes. 

 

When she’s feeling well enough to speak again, she inhales and says, “You got out.” 

 

“Yeah.” Emma blinks away more tears. “I broke some wards. I didn’t think I could. Zelena made sure that they’re stronger now.” 

 

“I don’t understand.” Emma had gotten  _ free _ , had made it to safety all on her own. Why would she come back to this hell? Why would she waste her escape on Regina? Why wouldn’t she go to the safe house waiting right in front of her instead? “Why?” she croaks.

 

Emma stands. When she sits, it’s on Regina’s bed. It’s the bed they’ve been sharing for weeks, eyes closed when their hands find each other’s in the night. Today, though, Emma doesn’t wait for the dark. “Why?” she echoes, and her eyes are shining. “Why are you fighting for your mother now?” 

 

She asks the question like she already knows the answer, and Regina looks up at her uncomprehendingly. “Zelena said…” Emma squeezes Regina’s hand, reaches up to rest their joined hands against her lips. “Was it really all for me?” 

 

_ Why did you come back?  _ Regina wants to repeat, but instead she says, staring up at Emma’s eyes, “I don’t think I ever hated you.”

 

Emma smiles, tearful and warm, and curls up beside Regina in the bed. It’s been a long day, and Regina can rest at last. “I know,” Emma whispers, and Regina’s knuckles are still at her lips.

 

* * *

 

Emma is getting closer to the end of her pregnancy, which means that she gets more irritable, lashing out suddenly and then tearfully apologizes. Regina doesn’t care, not when they’re both alive and as safe as they can be in the Mills Manor. “What happens when the baby comes?” Regina wonders one night. They’re on the floor in Regina’s room, staring up at the ceiling. Regina has enchanted it to look like the skies outside, the closest Emma will get to leaving the house after her last escape. “Are you…you are planning on keeping it, aren’t you?” 

 

Emma rolls over to stare at Regina, conflict in her eyes. Regina feels fear, beating in her stomach and lungs. “Emma?” 

 

“I’m not a mother, Regina,” Emma whispers. “I can’t raise a kid. I’m practically a baby myself. I’m gonna screw him up if it’s all on me.” 

 

Regina can see the pain in her eyes, the indecision. “It’s not all on you,” she says, and she slides her hand into Emma’s. “I’ll be there. I mean–” And she realizes suddenly how presumptuous it is to assume that Emma wants her there at all. “If he needs an aunt or–” 

 

“A mother,” Emma says softly, and her hand tightens in Regina’s, her decision made in the flex of her fingers. “Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Regina repeats, and the relief is as overwhelming as the hope is. 

 

Emma turns back, looking up at the stars, and her last request is as certain as the first was not. “I never want your mother anywhere near him,” she says, her jaw tight and her eyes hard.

 

“She won’t be,” Regina promises, and she doesn’t know how she can keep the vow, but she will. Emma means that much, and so does this child, an unknown who can be the only one they’ll willingly belong to.

 

* * *

 

It’s calmer now. Less is expected of Regina since Ruby and being caught in the crossfire, and Regina knows with dread that Mother is perfectly aware of why she’d been hit with that stray curse. “I wanted to kill her myself,” she had blurted out when Mother had looked at her with piercing eyes upon her return. 

 

Mother’s expression hadn’t changed, and Regina had steeled herself for another hex, another wash of pain to join the first. But all Mother had said was, “I saw your girl came to get you.” It had been cool, uninterested, but there had been a grudging approval there. 

 

Mother finally believes that Emma might be on their side, and the wards don’t fall but the cold stares are more muted now. Emma can curl up on the couch and read a book without being harassed by Death Eaters, and the whole house begins to feel a little warmer, a little more secure.

 

One of the newer arrivals, in fact, takes a special interest in Emma. Regina comes downstairs one afternoon and finds Emma with her book on her lap and a woman’s arm around her shoulders. The fury that flares up in Regina’s throat is overwhelming.

 

“You and I,” Ingrid is saying to Emma, “We have this purity of blood that makes us special. I can see it in you,” Ingrid says, touching Emma’s cheek. Emma’s eyes are fixed on Ingrid, and Regina can’t tell if it’s with wariness or interest.

 

Regina clears her throat. Ingrid looks up with a light sneer, sweeping her gaze over Regina as though she finds her unworthy. “Ah, yes,” she says, lip curling. “Henry Mills’s daughter.” 

 

_ Henry Mills’s daughter _ , because even coming from a long line of distinguished wizards isn’t enough for Death Eaters, when they’re wizards like Regina’s father’s family. The disdain is nothing new, but the rage that boils up is and has little to do with Regina’s beloved father. “Emma,” Regina says, and she moves forward as Emma looks up, slides onto the couch– onto Emma’s lap, bumping obnoxiously against Ingrid.

 

Emma catches her, slides her hands onto Regina’s sides to steady her, and Regina takes it as an invitation. She leans forward, over the considerable baby bump, and presses her lips to Emma’s. Emma’s head falls back against the couch, her eyes drifting shut, and she kisses Regina back gladly.

 

Ingrid’s hand has disappeared from Emma’s shoulders.  _ Good _ . All Regina can focus on right now is Emma, flushed and panting as she presses kisses onto Regina’s face, as she tugs her closer and her hips rise up to meet Regina’s. There’s a dazed sort of freedom to this pretending, to kissing Emma like it’s real and feeling kisses pressed to her jaw with that same almost-real intensity, and Regina presses her forehead to Emma’s when she’s done and slides reluctantly to the now-vacated spot beside Emma on the couch.

 

Emma curls up into her. “I thought you’d never come,” she murmurs, laying her head against Regina’s shoulder. 

 

There is no one in the room anymore to put on a show for, no reason to be sitting as though they really are True Love, but Regina slides an arm around Emma’s back and pulls her in snugly.

 

* * *

 

Mother is the one to broach the topic, while they’re mixing healing potions for some of the Death Eaters who’d been injured in their last battle. “You’re not having a bastard child,” she says abruptly, spilling eye of newt into the largest potion.

 

Zelena, Mother’s actual bastard child, chokes on her glass of water. Regina says, “What?” It’s been months of dreading the worst, hoping desperately that Emma’s baby isn’t in danger by virtue of its alleged True Love Baby status. She hadn’t expected this now, in the final month of Emma’s pregnancy, when her guard is finally down.

 

But Mother is watching her, unamused. “You already have enough stains on your lineage,” she says coolly. “I won’t have your child dealing with the same. You will marry Emma Swan.” 

 

_ Oh _ . “Oh,” Regina says, feeling rather stunned. “I…” A new wave of anxiety bubbles up. “I don’t know if she wants to get married.” 

 

Mother waves a hand impatiently. “She’s your True Love, isn’t she?” And she’s watching Regina keenly, and for a moment, Regina is afraid that Mother doesn’t believe, after all. “Of course she’ll marry you. Where else is this going?” Her lips twist in disgust. “This isn’t a halfway house for pregnant orphans. Where is your father’s ring?” 

 

It’s around her neck on its chain, and Regina pulls it out, opens the clasp and holds the ring in her palm. This charade has gone on too long, has become too real, and Emma doesn’t deserve a choice like this where there are no choices. “I can’t,” she whispers, and she fears little more than causing pain to Emma. 

 

“You will, and you will do it today,” Mother says darkly, “I will not tolerate anything less.” 

 

Regina bites her lip, stares at her father’s ring until her eyes blur. “And if she says no?” 

 

Mother smiles coldly. “We shall see.”

 

It’s a threat. They’re both under threat right now, and Regina doesn’t doubt that Mother will enforce that. It’d be nice to warn Emma, to apologize before she dooms her, but there are no private moments for the duration of the day. Emma is in the sitting room when they’re finished with the potions, Cruella and the Blind Witch chatting on the other side of the room, and Mother’s eyes are on Regina through dinner. Regina doesn’t dare poke Emma to make a quick trip to the “bathroom” to conference, and she doesn’t get to speak to Emma once before Mother hisses, “Now,” and Regina is nudged by a wave of magic to her gut.

 

Emma has just stood up from the table. “I think I’m going to go sleep early,” she mumbles, and she looks at Regina and freezes. Regina is kneeling, the ring in her hand, and her expression is as desperately apologetic as she can manage.

 

She’s terrified. Terrified of how Emma might react, if she’ll run or laugh or refuse and force Mother to take action. She’s terrified of the consequences of Emma saying no, and she holds her breath and hates every single person in this house except for Emma.

 

Emma, who is  _ good _ and has always been, who is secretly more valuable to the Death Eaters than Mother can ever know. Emma who’d come here to save Regina, and now Regina will lead her only to ruin. Emma, who deserves much more than spending the rest of her life in fear–

 

“Of course I will,” Emma says, and she reaches for Regina’s hands, lifts her to a standing position and kisses her. Regina doesn’t kiss her back, so startled at the acquiescence.

 

“You– you  _ what _ ?” 

 

“I’ll marry you,” Emma says, eyes warm and no fear on her face. “If it’s what you want, I mean.” She stumbles over the words, suddenly alarmed. “Or– was that too forward? Did you just drop something? Oh, my god.” 

 

“No, that was a proposal,” Zelena calls out from the table. “A half-assed one, but it’s the best Regina can do.” Cruella cackles. Mal rolls her eyes. Mother preens, satisfied at last.

 

Regina escapes, tugging Emma with her upstairs. Emma is wearing Daddy’s ring, which is all kinds of… _ something _ , and Regina slams the door to her room and says, “You don’t have to– I’m sorry. Mother insisted.” 

 

Emma blinks at her, suddenly chagrined. “ _ Oh _ . Your mother– she was behind this,” she says in realization.

 

“Yes?” Regina had thought that Emma had grasped the danger and reacted. This makes no sense. “What did you think?” 

 

Emma shrugs helplessly. “We’re having a baby,” she says in meek explanation, and all of Regina warms at  _ we’re having a baby _ . “I thought you were…trying to make an honest woman of me.” 

 

She fidgets, a flush warming her cheeks, and Regina is baffled at what she’s supposed to do  _ now _ . “I would,” she says, awkward. “I mean, I didn’t think you’d think of it like that, but…” She twists her fingers together in uncertain discomfort. “I would marry you if you wanted it,” she admits, because of  _ course _ , because they’re each other’s lifeline here and Emma is…

 

“I want it,” Emma says breathlessly, and she reaches out with the ringed hand, caresses Regina’s cheek until Regina can’t breathe, either. “Haven’t you figured out by now that I’m in love with you?” 

 

This kiss is the first since Hogwarts that isn’t about achieving any kind of goal, that isn’t about how they look or who is present to see it. It’s quiet and it’s gentle, and they’re two girls so unused to gentleness that they’re crying silent tears when it’s over. “It’s okay if you don’t love me,” Emma whispers when they make it to their spot on the bed, curled together, and Regina freezes in disbelief. “If you don’t want to…to go through with this marriage and–” 

 

Regina looks at her, sees the vulnerability in Emma’s eyes and feels her stomach twist as she struggles for the right words. There are things she won’t think about, things she’s never admitted, and she takes a deep breath and whispers, “First year, when Mother sent that Howler after I was Sorted.” 

 

Emma regards her solemnly. “I remember.” It had been a sharp voice, booming through the Great Hall, reminding Regina of exactly what a disappointment she’s become. Regina had kept her chin up, daring anyone to cross her, and she’d walked through the halls and ignored the snickers. She’d skipped lunch and dinner and gone only to classes for the rest of the day.

 

Emma had come to her that evening, Ruby trailing behind her, and she’d handed her a plate of food without a word. Regina, bitter and resentful of everyone, had overturned it and stalked off to bed. “You were…so full of light,” Regina remembers, her lips brushing against Emma’s forehead. “So righteous and fierce. And I was living in shadows and you still found me.” 

 

“I wanted to be your friend,” Emma says ruefully, and Regina looks at her in disbelief. “I  _ craved  _ it. And you wanted me gone.” She presses another kiss to Regina’s lips. “I took your attention in any way I could get it.” 

 

“I couldn’t believe that you’d…” Regina blinks back more tears. “I couldn’t believe it was real. I never understood why you wanted to be around me, when I was…” She feels Emma’s kiss, this time on her neck, and she stares up at their enchanted ceiling and struggles to find the words. “And you were so  _ good _ .” 

 

“You were good,” Emma whispers. “I don’t think I can…I can’t explain to you how it felt, seeing Cora Mills’s daughter fighting so hard against her own destiny. Everyone was waiting for you to snap, but I…I loved you for every time you didn’t.” 

 

“I loved you,” Regina whispers back, and Emma looks up at her with wide, wide eyes. “Did you know that?” Fighting with Emma had been the only part of Hogwarts that had felt real, had felt like something other than pitying glances and lurching on the edge of a tightrope. Fighting with Emma had felt like being a  _ person _ , and she doesn’t know where she’d be if she hadn’t had Emma.

 

Emma, who’d run to her after graduation because she’d been so sure that Regina had been here against her will. It had never crossed her mind that Regina would become a Death Eater. Emma, who’d loved her in shadows, long before their lives had depended on it. 

 

“Marry me,” Regina whispers, this time without the audience or the scheming or the threats hanging over their heads. This time she means it, and Emma wraps her arms around Regina and kisses her forehead.

 

“Yes,” Emma whispers against her skin, and Regina closes her eyes.

 

* * *

 

There is a small ceremony, without any speeches or dancing. It’s just Emma and Regina with their wands out and touching, and Mother waves her wand over them until a shower of red sparks fall over them. “There,” she says, satisfied. “I declare you bonded for life.” 

 

_ For life. _ Regina reaches for Emma’s hand and leans in, their lips brushing chastely, and Zelena makes some raucous suggestions that they both ignore. Mother takes back Emma’s wand almost immediately, to both their disappointment. There’s a little reception that the Death Eaters attend just to grab some hors d'oeuvres, and Emma mutters into Regina’s ear, “Zelena did have the right idea about our wedding night,” just as Regina’s biting into a potato puff. She chokes, her cheeks heating up, and Emma grins and slinks across the room. 

 

And that’s it. They’re married. Everyone’s been getting married lately, from the reports they’ve been getting of the wizarding world. No one knows how much longer they’ll have, and Regina can feel the same trepidation when she looks at Emma now, when her eyes fall to Emma’s stomach and she thinks of a promise she’d made about their baby.

 

They dance in their room with the moon lighting their way, bodies swaying together as they kiss; and they dance until they’re naked and wrapped in each other, nothing else in the world but them.

 

* * *

 

Their honeymoon is taken in the attic, sorting through Regina’s old clothes and toys and tugging out a crib that hasn’t been used since Regina had been a baby. “It’ll fit in the room,” Regina decides, waving a hand so it vanishes and reappears there. “How about a changing table? Or a–” 

 

“Regina,” Emma says, and she’s holding a framed photo on her lap. It’s Regina as an infant on her mother’s lap, Daddy standing behind them. Daddy is smiling indulgently at Regina, but Mother twitches impatiently in her frame, jostling the crying infant. Emma looks at the picture again, then at Regina. “We’re not staying here after he’s born. I thought we agreed on that.” 

 

“We do,” Regina says, and she takes the picture from Emma, shoving it back into the box. 

 

Mother in the picture says, “How rude, dear,” disapprovingly, her voice muffled. 

 

“I don’t know how we get out,” Regina says, lowering her voice. “If they let you go to a hospital, it’ll have to be a Muggle one. I don’t think Mother would consent to her grandson being born among Muggles.” Not with her history, as well-hidden as it’s been. “So we’d have to break these wards.” 

 

“We can do it,” Emma says with certainty. “The two of us together? Headmistress White–” Her lips purse together, only the slightest hint of distress at the memory– “Used to say that we had the potential to be the strongest duo that Hogwarts had ever seen.” 

 

Regina cocks her head. “Snow White wanted me to partner up with you?” 

 

Emma laughs, a little wistful. “Very reluctantly. But back when I actually  _ liked  _ her, I was never very quiet about how fixated I was with you.” 

 

Regina nudges her, a little delighted. “Embarrassing.” 

 

“We’re  _ married _ ,” Emma reminds her, smirking. “I think I won this one.” She leans forward to kiss Regina, backing her down until Regina’s on the floor and Emma is crouched over her. “Oh,” she says suddenly, sitting back up with her eyes wide.

 

“Oh?” Regina repeats, brow furrowing. “What’s wrong?”

 

“I don’t know,” Emma says, resting a hand on her belly. Her face is pale, and she shuts her eyes for a moment as though she’s in pain. “I think I might be–” 

 

A deep shadow falls over the attic, the windows dimming and air whispering with renewed malice. Regina crawls over to the window, and sees dark clouds gathering in a familiar sight. “The Dark One is here,” Regina says worriedly, and she shifts to stare at Emma. Emma is still clutching her stomach, looking just as worried. “Please tell me you’re not in labor, Emma. Not with  _ him _ here.” 

 

“I don’t know,” Emma says, and she staggers to her feet. “It hurts, but it could be something else. It has to be.” She shuts her eyes and clenches her jaw. “I can wait. I can wait.” 

 

They climb down from the attic gingerly, walking swiftly toward the safety of Regina’s room. Emma is shaking on her feet, her breathing ragged, and Regina guides her, arm under hers. “Almost there,” she murmurs in Emma’s ear. “Just a few more steps. Just…” 

 

They push Regina’s door open, and the Dark One smiles at them from under his hood. “Seize the girl,” he hisses, and Regina yanks out her wand, shouts out automatic curses and holds onto Emma and kicks away Death Eaters as they swarm toward her.

 

They’re strangers, not the ones who’ve lived at Mills Manor and know her and Emma and have accepted them; and Regina is almost relieved when Mother steps forward and puts up a hand. “Enough!” Mother says sharply, and the Death Eaters stop. Regina doesn’t know which of them is being seized, who the Dark One wants, but Mother won’t hand over her child or grandchild without ensuring their safety, Regina  _ knows _ –

 

Mother reaches her, her eyes bright and smiling in a maternal way that Regina has come to associate only with Regina’s greatest moments of success. “My dear,” Mother says, and she whispers a spell. 

 

Regina’s wand snaps in her hand.

 

“No,” Regina says hoarsely. “No, Mother, the baby–” 

 

Mother laughs, high and amused, and Regina’s blood runs cold. “Oh, yes,” she says, and she waves her wand and  _ pushes _ , sends Regina crashing against a wall. “Did you think me a fool? A  _ child of True Love _ ? What nonsense.” 

 

“No,” Regina says, desperate as she shakes her head. “Emma and I– we’re in  _ love _ , the baby is mine–” Emma twists, but there are Death Eaters on every side, closing in on them. “Why would you– you kept her safe because–” 

 

Mother steps forward, her fingers tracing Regina’s skin. “You’ve been a valuable chess piece, my dear,” she says, and her fingers rest on Regina’s chin, pinch it hard. “And even more so once we discovered that Snow White’s daughter was in love with you. You played your part well.” 

 

“No!” Emma cries, and she’s swinging her fists at Death Eaters, struggling to get to Regina. “No, no, no!  _ Regina _ !”

 

“Emma,” Regina whispers, and she  _ feels _ Emma reaching toward her, feels magic uncontrolled by wand as it rises strong between them.  _ Bonded for life _ , and maybe that bond is what gives them this sheer, unadulterated power as the Dark One watches, enough that the house begins to shake. 

 

“Regina!” Emma cries out again, and the roof explodes. The wards fall, plaster rains down on the Death Eaters, and Mother races to Emma before Regina can break free. Something is happening, and Regina can see the magic begin to grow– to rise around them, something new that they haven’t wrought– it’s coming from the wedding ring that Emma wears on her finger– it’s a  _ Portkey _ suddenly activating, Regina realizes with dawning horror– and Mother grabs Emma’s arm just as they both disappear.

 

They’re gone. And Regina runs.

 

* * *

 

She doesn’t know where she’s running until she’s in front of Snow White’s safehouse, where she’d almost been killed by angry Aurors weeks ago. She bangs on the blank brick walls, hammers on them until her hands begin to bleed and shouts, “Help! Help me! Help!” 

 

She loathes them all at this point, the self-important Aurors and Snow, whom Emma still can’t forgive. But they’re all she has now, her only chance to save Emma and their baby– and oh  _ god _ , they’d used Regina to draw in Emma, Regina wants to  _ scream _ –

 

She does scream, louder and louder until she begins to get stares from passersby. “Let me in!” she snarls at the smooth walls. “It’s Emma! Let me–” 

 

Very suddenly, a door appears in the wall, an outline that becomes more three-dimensional within moments. The door opens swiftly, and Snow says, “Emma?” 

 

“She’s been taken,” Regina says shakily. “Cora  _ knows _ , and Emma’s in danger and I–” She can feel frustrated tears still lurking at the corners of her eyes. “I don’t even know where she  _ is _ –” 

 

“Come with me,” Snow says, and she takes Regina’s hand and Apparates away.

 

They’re in a dark cavern that Regina’s never seen before. Snow murmurs words and a map appears on the wall, golden lights moving slowly up and down the streets. She touches her wand to the map and a little blue light appears on it, flying across the map until it settles in front of a Muggle hospital across town. “There’s a secret ward,” Snow says grimly. “I don’t know why she’s taken Emma to a  _ hospital _ –” Something dangerous flares in her eyes, and Regina stays silent, distrustful. “That’s where they are.” 

 

“So let’s go,” Regina says impatiently. She has no wand, she has no allies, but with Snow, she might have a  _ chance _ . “Emma needs us–” 

 

“Emma needs you,” Snow corrects her. “If I come, I’ll only bring the Dark One to the hospital to counter me. Your mother won’t see you as a threat.” 

 

Regina stares at her in disbelief. Never for an instant had she thought that Snow wouldn’t– “You’re not coming with me?” she demands. “She’s your  _ daughter _ . Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” 

 

“Of course it does,” Snow says earnestly. “But her safety means more, and if I provoke the Dark One, then Emma will be in greater danger.” She puts a hand on Regina’s shoulder, looks into her eyes. “I’ve known since the moment you were Sorted into Gryffindor that you were meant for something beyond your mother’s path. And I still believe in you.” 

 

Regina tears away from her, glaring at the map with renewed determination. “Don’t talk to me,” she snaps. “Don’t–”

 

“I have something,” Snow says, and Regina turns back to her dubiously. Snow smiles sadly at her. “Did you think I would send you back empty-handed?” She taps her wand to her palm, and a box appears within it. A dull sound comes from it, low and thumping, and Regina can’t look away from it. “It was your mother’s, once,” Snow murmurs. 

 

“What is it?” But Regina already knows, can see the red glowing through the glass pinhole and can hear it thumping in time with her own.

 

Snow says, “Don’t you see? It’s her heart.”

 

* * *

 

Mother has no heart, had taken hers out to serve the Dark One. Regina should have guessed long ago, but she had never imagined that there could be a world where her mother would be capable of love.  _ “Give her back her heart,”  _ Snow had said, holding it out to Regina.  _ “Give yourself a mother who loves you.”  _

 

Regina can’t comprehend that, but she can feel the hope beating in her chest as she holds the heart under her coat and Apparates to the hospital, can feel the wonder at the possibility of a world where Mother can really love her. She hasn’t dreamed in years what it might mean not to hurt all the time, and now she thinks with fierce hope of  _ possibilities _ –

 

Emma, safe. Mother, with a heart. Snow has given her  _ everything _ , and Regina walks into the building, dodges past a security guard and climbs into the elevator. She has the cracked remnants of her wand with her, and she holds them together and funnels as much magic as she can into them. They spark and fail but after a few tries, a button appears on the wall of the elevator. 

 

Regina presses it and drops her wand to the ground, leaning against the wall as the elevator drops. It won’t be long. The elevator is moving quickly, faster than any she’s ever experienced in the Muggle world, and her stomach bottoms out. The walls begin to blur, and Regina holds onto the heart with one hand and the elevator rail with the other, shutting her eyes as nausea sets in–

 

She lands with a thump and the elevator doors open to the sound of a baby crying. Regina charges forward without a second thought, races through the empty lobby and into the rooms behind it, and she sees Emma at once, drenched in sweat with a naked, wailing baby clutched to her. The Healer who must have delivered the baby is backed against the wall, looking terrified. 

 

Mother is standing in front of Emma and pays no attention to anyone else present, and Regina takes the heart out of its box and charges forward. Emma shouts, “Wait!” but it’s too late, Mother lets out a gasp and Regina  _ pushes _ , shoves the heart back where it belongs.

 

Mother turns, and her eyes are so bright, brighter than Regina has ever seen them before. She struggles to remind herself of her doubts– Mother-with-a-heart had been the one to decide to  _ remove  _ it, after all– but Mother gasps out, her words heartfelt, “Regina? Darling–” and Regina feels hope above all else.

 

And then something happens.

 

It’s as though Mother is made to clay and hardened, and now she begins to shatter. It starts at the heart that Regina had pushed into her– the heart that had been meant to  _ save  _ her, that Snow had given to Regina so kindly– and cracks outward, her skin breaking and orange fire appearing at the seams of it. “Mother!” Regina cries out desperately, but Mother can’t respond anymore.

 

The fire bursts from her and consumes her as quickly as Regina had pushed the poisoned heart into her, and there is nothing left to her but a pile of ashes. Regina lets out a gasping sob, sinking to her knees in the ash, and Emma whispers her name but Regina can’t move to go to her.

 

Mother is dead by Regina’s hand. Regina had been so foolish to believe that Snow had wanted to  _ help _ , and now–

 

The baby cries again, thin and reedy, and Regina looks up at last. Emma is blinking back tears–  _ tears for Mother? No, for Regina _ – and Regina slides to her, reaches for the baby and wraps him in a blanket on the bed. “Emma,” she whispers, and she crawls into the bed beside her, the baby in her arms, and they hold each other tightly.

 

* * *

 

They return to the house because there’s nowhere else to go. It’s in shambles, the top floor fallen into the bottom, and the Dark One is gone. “So is his dagger,” Zelena informs them, rubbing at the Mark on her arm absently. “He isn’t dead. But it’ll be a while before he tries anything without Mother.” 

 

There is grief in her eyes, too, and Regina reaches for her hand and squeezes it. They’ve never been close, but they’re  _ sisters _ , and Zelena had craved Mother’s love just as desperately as Regina had. 

 

Cruella tries hexing them and Zelena disarms her with a twist of her wand, her eyes dark. “I suggest you run before the Aurors come,” she says, and Cruella scoffs and flees. “I plan to be halfway across the world by then,” Zelena mutters to them. “Snow White is not sending me to Azkaban.” 

 

“No,” Emma agrees grimly. “She’s done enough.” There is anger in her eyes, and she holds the baby tightly to her, both of them tucked in close to Regina. And when Zelena is gone, she says, “Run away with me.” 

 

Regina can argue, can ask her about her parents or about leaving the world they’ve grown up in. But she’s tired. They’re both tired, and there has been far too much devastation in their young lives to spend the rest of their years drowning in it. “Of course,” she says, and they’re gone moments before the first Aurors arrive.

 

* * *

 

**AFTER.**

 

 

Mayor and Sheriff Swan-Mills, of Storybrooke, Maine, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense.

 

Mayor Swan-Mills was known for both her efficiency and the iron fist with which she ruled over her town, and she was simultaneously wildly popular and solidly feared. Sheriff Swan-Mills was far more personable, and often the only one who could get through to her wife, assuming you had something sugary to easily sway her. Both were very intimidating unless you’d known them for ten years, like their son, Henry, did.

 

At ten, Henry Swan-Mills had three main interests: school, his moms, and fairytales. Of the three, only the third seemed to be a source of distress for his parents. No matter what he said to reassure them that he still had friends and he wasn’t going to get  _ nightmares  _ from  _ fairytales _ , his moms were less than pleased with it.

 

“It’s just stupid,” Ma complained after one story. “Why would you waste time with some magical potion when you could just punch someone in the face instead?” Mom cleared her throat. Ma said hastily, “Not that magical potions are a  _ thing _ .” Mom cleared her throat again. Ma said dutifully, “Or punching people in the face.” 

 

“I saw you punch Mr. Travers in the face last week,” Henry said helpfully. “Was he committing a crime?” 

 

Ma shifted uncomfortably. “Something like that.” Mom raised her eyebrows. Ma’s shoulders slumped. “He said some nasty things about the mayor. I’m a public servant. I can’t let that slide.” 

 

“You’re basically a hero, Ma,” Henry said, laughing, and Mom shook her head and turned back to the stove. “He’s so mean. If I had magic–” 

 

Mom and Ma said it together. “No magic!” 

 

“Fine,” Henry said huffily. He liked to think that there  _ was  _ magic, and that he’d accessed it in the past. Sometimes he’d play tricks on himself and make himself believe that he’d lifted something, or changed something on his own. 

 

He lay in bed that night and stared at the window where it was cracked open, trying with all his might to lift the window some more. He concentrated– focused as hard as he could– and he thought he saw the window move upward just a little. 

 

The room was colder, anyway, and he pulled on his extra blanket and didn’t think anything more about magic for the rest of the night. 

 

In the morning, he went to school like any other day. Something felt odd about today, like he was standing on the precipice of something. He didn’t know how to explain it to his moms, but he was on edge when he went to the station after school, waiting for something to happen.

 

Ma tousled his hair on the way to pick up Mom from Town Hall. “What’s gotten into you?” she asked, and Henry shrugged. They went out to Granny’s for dinner, and then they headed home, Mom and Ma holding hands behind Henry’s back as they walked together. 

 

It was kind of gross how in love they were. Parents weren’t supposed to be like that, according to Nick, anyway. Henry darted forward, knapsack slung over his back, and he paused at the mailbox to collect the stack from the day. It was all bills and ads, plus two other letters enclosed in thick paper with the same handwriting on them in green ink. 

 

The first was addressed to  _ Regina Mills and Emma Swan _ . The second was for  _ Henry Swan-Mills, the second bedroom, 108 Mifflin Street, Storybrooke, Maine _ . Henry stared at it. 

 

Mom said from behind him, her voice strained, “Emma. Emma, they found him.” Ma let out a curse. Mom didn’t even reprove her for it, her eye still on the letters in Henry’s hands.

 

Henry turned to face them, his eyes wide and his heart thumping with breathless curiosity. “Who found me?” he asked.

 

Mom ushered him inside in silence, Ma fiddling with the envelope with their names on it. Henry held his own envelope tightly, and Mom cleared her throat as they sat down, the three of them curled together on the couch. “It’s time you know the truth,” Ma whispered. “We tried so hard to protect you from the world we came from, but it could only last so long.”

 

She exchanged a glance with Mom and they reached for each other’s hands again, over the back of the couch as Henry waited expectantly.

 

Mom began. “Once upon a time…” 

 


End file.
